This is an excellent novel. It’s got everything a great YA story should have: strong characters, gripping plot, nail-biting tension, and a powerful message (in this case, the futility of war).

The Bridge is set in a dystopian future, where a divided city is at war with itself. The river and a series of bridges are all that separate Cityside and Southside.

Nik lives in Cityside, where ISIS is in control and keeps the hostiles from Southside at bay. Nik’s always understood his place in Cityside, but when ISIS recruits overlook him – despite the fact he’s one of the smartest kids his age – he starts to wonder why. But then his school his bombed, a friend’s brother, Sol, is kidnapped, and the hostiles take over the bridges. Nik is desperate to save Sol, and heads into enemy territory…

I love the way narrative character Nik’s view of the world is shaken – and ultimately widened – when he crosses into Southside.

Jane Higgins does an amazing job of depicting how a society might respond to ongoing civil conflict. In The Bridge, both sides have de-humanised the other; both are committed to revenge and retribution for the daily tragedies; and groups on both sides believe there can’t be peace without the total subjugation of the other.

But this isn’t just about the futility of war; it’s also a lesson in how peace can never come without justice. War can never truly be brought to an end when one side loses its capacity for empathy for the other.

While there’s certainly some moments of heartbreak in The Bridge, there are also moments of hope, and I was so moved by Nik’s personal journey that I was a tad teary by the final page.

Highly recommended.

(An aside: While the setting and the war in question is completely fictitious, I couldn’t help but feel a strong parallel with the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, given the dynamic between the two sides… which would certainly make for an interesting study topic.)

There will be some spoilers below if you haven’t read the first two books, so if you intend to – stop reading now (and read my Shiver review instead).

So… In Forever, Grace is now a wolf and Sam is a boy, who may or may not be cured from turning into a wolf again.

Life is more complicated than it’s ever been for the pair because not only is Sam the prime suspect in Grace’s disappearance, there are also plans for Mercy Falls’ wolf population to be culled – using helicopters and rifles.

And while waiting for Grace to return to her human form, Sam is also missing his wolf family, and wrestling with the truth about his past – and Beck’s role in it.

Meanwhile, Cole keeps working to find a cure – mostly because the idea of failure doesn’t occur to him – and Isabel still oscillates between lust and loathing for him.

For me, one of the most rewarding aspects of Forever, is the respective emotional journeys of Sam and Cole. They are polar opposites in pretty much every way possible, but their transformative moments are equally rewarding.

The series is so beautifully written I’ve often had to force myself to slow down and savour the language, but by mid-way through Forever, that’s impossible. As the threat to the wolves builds, the tension and pace demands rapid page turning.

What’s driven this story all along is the beautiful, tender relationship between Sam and Grace, and – since Linger – there’s also the more volatile attraction between Cole and Isabel, fairly humming with raw sexuality.

So, yes, the Wolves of Mercy Falls trilogy is a love (and lust) story. But it’s so much more than that.

It’s a story about grief, longing and regret … of love, redemption and self-acceptance. It’s about the joy of living and the pain of loss; the need to belong, and the need to be comfortable in your own skin.

All the threads from the past two books come together seamlessly in Forever, but that doesn’t mean everything is wrapped up with a neat bow – and readers who have been paying attention would expect nothing less.

But there’s more than enough resolution to leave fans sighing with satisfaction.

I had such high expectations for this final instalment and it impresses me so much that Forever exceeded them.

It’s pretty much one long chase for most of its 479 pages, but it’s also more than that. It’s original, clever, thought-provoking and disturbing, sitting somewhere on the YA shelf between science fiction and fantasy.

The story is set in the future, on a planet called New World, which has been settled by people wanting to start a fresh life (not dissimilar to the original settlers of another New World a few centuries back).

These church settlers fought a war against the indigenous inhabitants (known as the Spackle), and became infected by a germ that allowed men to hear each other’s thoughts, and those of all living creatures around them – except women.

But in Prentisstown, all the women have now died, and all the males have turned 13 – except Todd. He’s the last boy in the settler town and is counting down the days before he becomes a man.

Todd is used to hearing the thoughts of the men of Prentisstown – dark thoughts filled with anger, desperation and longing – and those of his lively dog Manchee (“Poo Todd!”)

But when he stumbles across a patch of silence down by the river, he knows something isn’t right. He doesn’t know what it means, but just hearing the silence is enough to put his life at risk, and before he understand why, Todd’s on the run with the ever-loyal Manchee.

He discovers the source of the silence and that answer – and the revelation Prentisstown is not the only settlement on New World – turn his life inside out.

For most of The Knife of Never Letting Go, Todd is on the run from the crazed men of Prentisstown, and the threat they pose only escalates as the chase continues.

I don’t think I’ve ever read a book as fast-paced as this. one Ness builds the tension quickly and sustains it to the point it’s almost unbearable – in fact, by the showdown at the end, it’s excruciating.

It’s hard not to devour this novel. Aside from the pace, Todd’s narrative voice is sweet and funny, and his journey from innocence to awakening is mesmerising. He makes mistakes that threaten to consume him, and has to make a heart-breaking sacrifice. But he makes good choices too, and it’s satisfying watching him start to come of age (even if he takes some pretty intense punishment along the way).

And then there is Ness’ exploration of themes of ignorance, fear and moral corruption, and how communities might react when half its population has no privacy for their thoughts.

For much of the book, I had no idea what was going on (because Todd doesn’t) – although I could take some good guesses. But by the end, there are enough answers to be make the nail-biting journey worth the effort.

By the end, I was exhausted, and, to be honest, a little deflated by the cliffhanger finale. But it perfectly sets up the second book of the trilogy. Having read some non-spoiler reviews of the rest of the series, I think I’ll take a breath before diving into the rest of the series though…

I’ve had this book in my to-read pile for a few months now and finally got to it this week. And I have to say, it was worth the wait.

The Replacement has everything I love in paranormal fiction: moody cover art (in both editions I’ve seen), original mythology, lyrical writing, sharp dialogue and an engaging plot that brings something new to the YA paranormal genre.

There’s a love interest, but you wouldn’t call it romantic. There are other-worldly beings but they are creepy, and often brutal. And there’s a cute guy, but he has a few issues…

Quick plot overview: Mackie Doyle is a Replacement, someone not quite human, left in the crib of a human baby 16 years ago to replace the real child, who was stolen by the creatures who live in the murky tunnels under the small town of Gentry.

But now Mackie’s fatal allergies to iron, blood and consecrated ground are slowly killing him. And when he’s forced to face his connection to the dark characters of the Slag Heap, he has a chance to work out once and for all where he belongs.

One of the things I particularly liked about The Replacement is that Mackie knows from the start he’s a Replacement – as does his family. Even his friends know he’s not quite normal. And everyone accepts and protects him, while the town around them lives in denial about their missing children.

The driving character arc in The Replacement is not in Mackie discovering who he is, but discovering how to belong in the human world.

Yovanoff has created an exceptionally atmospheric novel, with a disturbing mythology that’s not only enthralling, it also provides some truly creepy moments that almost push this into horror territory.

There are also some fascinating themes tackled here: the nature of worship and sacrifice, the power of denial, and the value of love and acceptance.

Male narrators tend to be reasonably rare in the genre, and Mackie is a complex and well drawn character, who – along with his buddies – actually talks and acts like a teenage boy, not an overly idealised version of one.

He’s not a hero. In fact, he’s often physically vulnerable, and his moments of courage come when he pushes through his own limitations to try and make things right in Gentry again.

Mackie is drawn to the delightfully foul-tempered Tate, whose younger sister is the latest to be “replaced”, and whose disappearance is glossed by a town desperate to not face the reality of the unspoken – and largely unconscious – blood-soaked pact made generations ago to keep their town prosperous.

She’s the one who finally has the courage to demand the truth and set Mackie on his dangerous path of self-discovery.

This is YA paranormal/supernatural fiction with an edge. It’s evocative, well-written and completely enthralling. I’d definitely recommend it for readers who aren’t afraid of a little darkness in their paranormal adventures.

Carrie Jones’ YA series about violent pixies takes some interesting turns in this third instalment, but is just as readable and likable as its predecessors (Need and Captivate).

Note: there are spoilers below if you haven’t read the first two books. If you have, it’s safe to read on…

Life in Zara’s icy, isolated, Maine town has taken a turn for the worse, with more teenagers going missing and Zara having to face the consequences of the life- changing decision she made at the end of Captivate.

This book is pretty much all about Zara’s desperate attempts to get to Valhalla and rescue Nick, while trying to convince her friends she hasn’t become their enemy.

One of the things I like about this series so much is the ideological battle Zara faces and the tough choices she continues to have to make to keep her town, her friends and her family safe.

In Need, Zara had to deal with pixie situation in a way that went against her philosophies of pacifism and justice.

In Captivate, she had to deal with the consequences of her choices, and come to terms with the fact that ideals are never as black and white in the harsh light of reality.

In Entice, she has become what she fears most and struggles with the question of whether you can fight evil without becoming evil. Jones also continues to pick at the threads of bigotry, with several characters being forced to question their hatred of pixies and accept that not all are the same – and not all are their enemy.

And yes, there’s still a romantic thread (and not entirely unexpected). With Nick still trapped in Valhalla, the pixie king Astley is centre stage as the main man in Zara’s life, and Jones writes him in a way that ensures he’s becoming a genuine rival for Zara’s affections.

Because, while she’s undoubtedly in love with Nick – and willing to sacrifice just about anything to have him back – it’s Astley she shares some of the most intense moments of her life with, and who helps her better understand what duty and sacrifice really mean.

There’s a lot more action in this book that the first two, all of which seems to be building towards a huge showdown that’s becoming more than just a factional spat among pixies.

It’s hard to tell whether this will wrap up in the next book, or if Jones is setting up for a longer-running series. Either way, I’m still hooked.